Pirate of the Caribbees

Harry Collingwood

Description

Though it's known today as a paradise for sun-worshipping tourists, the Caribbean's past is much darker. Centuries ago, the region was overrun with rapacious and bloodthirsty seadogs. In Harry Collingwood's nautical thriller A Pirate of the Caribbees, a valiant officer makes it his mission to rid the tropical islands of this unsavory element.

Sujets

• Adventure (Guyana)
• Adventure

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 juin 2012
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781775459392
• Langue: English

Extrait

A PIRATE OF THE CARIBBEES
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HARRY COLLINGWOOD
 
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A Pirate of the Caribbees First published in 1893 ISBN 978-1-77545-939-2 © 2012 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter One - A Frigate Fight in Mid-Atlantic Chapter Two - The Althea Founders Chapter Three - The Gig is Caught in a Hurricane Chapter Four - We Fall in with and Capture a Schooner Chapter Five - We Proceed in Search of the Althea's Boats Chapter Six - We Find the Launch Chapter Seven - A Daring Act of Piracy Chapter Eight - We Capture a Spanish Indiaman Chapter Nine - We Encounter and Fight the Guerrilla Chapter Ten - Senor Jose Garcia Chapter Eleven - Cariacou—And Afterward Chapter Twelve - I Become the Victim of a Villainous Outrage Chapter Thirteen - In the Power of the Enemy Chapter Fourteen - I Seize the Felucca Chapter Fifteen - Heavy Weather Chapter Sixteen - The Last of the Felucca Chapter Seventeen - Captain Lemaitre Chapter Eighteen - A Double Tragedy Chapter Nineteen - The End of the Guerrilla
Chapter One - A Frigate Fight in Mid-Atlantic
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"Eight bells, there, sleepers; d'ye hear the news?—Rouse and bitt, myhearties! Show a leg! Eight bells, Courtenay! and Keene says he willbe much obliged if you will relieve him as soon as possible!"
These words, delivered in a tone of voice that was a curious alternationof a high treble with a preternaturally deep bass—due to the fact thatthe speaker's voice was "breaking"—and accompanied by the recklessbanging of a tin pannikin upon the deal table that adorned themidshipmen's berth of H.M. frigate Althea , instantly awoke me to thedisagreeable consciousness that my watch below had come to an end,especially as the concluding portion of the harangue was addressed to mepersonally, and accompanied by a most uncompromising thump upon the sideof my hammock. So I surlily growled an answer—
"All right, young 'un; there's no occasion to make all that hideous row!Just see if you can make yourself useful by finding Black Peter, willyou, and telling him to brew some coffee."
The lad was turning away to do my bidding when a pattering of naked feetbecame audible as their owner approached, while a husky voiceejaculated—
"Who's dat axin' for Brack Petah? Was it you, Mistah Courtenay?" Andat the same instant the shining, good-natured, grinning visage of agigantic negro appeared in the narrow doorway, through which the fellowinstantly passed into the berth, bearing a big pot of steaming hotcoffee.
"Ay, you black demon, I it was," answered I. "Is that coffee you havethere? Then find my cup and fill it, there's a good fellow, and I'llowe you a glass of grog."
"Hi, yi!" answered the black, his eyes sparkling and his teeth gleaminghilariously, "who you call 'brack demon,' eh, sah? Who eber hear ofbrack demon turnin' out at four o'clock in de mornin' to make coffee foryoung gentermen, eh? And about de grog, Mistah Courtenay; how manyglasses do dis one make dat you now owe me, eh, sah? Ansah me dat, sah.You don' keep no account, I expec's, sah, but I do. Dis one makesseben, Mistah Courtenay, and I'd be much obleege, sah, if you'd pay someof dem off. It am all bery well to say you'll owe 'em to me, sah, butwhat's de use ob dat if you don' nebber pay me, eh?"
" Pay you, you rascal?" shouted I, as I sprang to the deck and beganhastily to scramble into my clothes, "do you mean to say that you havethe impudence to actually expect to be paid ? Is it not honour andreward enough that a gentleman condescends to become indebted to you?Pay, indeed! why, what is the world coming to, I wonder?"
"Bravo, Courtenay, well spoken!" shouted young Lindsay, the lad who hadso ruthlessly interrupted my slumbers, "how well you express yourself;you ought to be in Parliament, man! Give it him again; bring him to hisbearings. The impudence of the fellow is getting to be past endurance!Now then, you black swab, where's the sugar? Do you suppose we candrink that stuff without sugar?"
After a search of some duration the sugar was eventually found in alocker, in loving contiguity to an open box of blacking, some bootbrushes, a box of candles, a few fragments of brown windsor,—one ofwhich had somehow found its way into the bowl,—and a few other fragranttrifles. In my haste to get on deck, and betrayed by the feeble lightof the purser's dip, which just sufficed to render the darkness visible,I managed to convey this stray morsel of soap into my coffee along withthe sugar wherewith I intended to sweeten it, and only discovered what Ihad done barely in time to avoid gulping down the soap along with thescalding liquid into which I had plunged it. A midshipman, however,soon loses all sense of squeamishness, so I contented myself withmuttering a sea blessing upon the head of the unknown individual who haddeposited this "matter in the wrong place," and dashed up the hatchwayto relieve the impatient Keene.
I shivered and instinctively buttoned my jacket closely about me as Istepped out on deck, for, mild and bland as the temperature actuallywas, it felt raw and chill after the close, stifling atmosphere of themidshipman's berth. It was very dark, for it was only just past thedate of the new moon, and the thin silver sickle—which was all that thecoy orb then showed of herself—had set some hours before; moreover,there was a thin veil of mist or sea fog hanging upon the surface of thewater, through which only a few of the brighter stars could be faintlydistinguished near the zenith. There was no wind—it had fallen calmthe night before about sunset, and we were in the Horse latitudes—andthe frigate was rolling uneasily upon a short, steep swell that had comecreeping up out from the north-east during the middle watch, theprecursor, as we hoped, of the north-east trades—for we were in thevery heart of the North Atlantic, and bound to the West Indies. I dulyreceived the anathemas of my shipmate Keene at my tardy appearance ondeck, hurled a properly spirited retort after him down the hatchway, andthen made my way up the poop ladder to tramp out my watch on the leeside of the deck—if there can be such a thing as a lee side when thereis no wind.
It was dreary work, this tramping fore and aft, fore and aft, withnothing whatever to engage the attention, and nothing to do. Itherefore eagerly watched for, and hailed with delight, the first faintpallid brightening of the eastern sky that heralded the dawn; for withdaylight there would at least be the ship's toilet to make—the decks toholystone and scrub, brasswork and guns to clean and polish, thepaintwork to wash, sheets and braces to flemish-coil, and mayhapsomething to see, as well as the possibility that with the rising of thesun we might get a small slant of wind to push us a few miles nearer tothe region where the trade wind was merrily blowing.
The dawn came slowly—or perhaps it merely seemed to my impatience todo so—and with daylight the mist that had hung about the ship all nightthickened into a genuine, unmistakable fog, so thick that when standingby the break of the poop it was impossible to see as far as the jib-boomend.
The fog made Mr Hennesey, our second lieutenant and the officer of thewatch, uneasy,—as well it might, for we were in the early spring of theyear 1805, and Great Britain was at war with France, Spain, and Holland,at that time the three most formidable naval powers in the world, nextto ourselves, and the chances were that every second ship we might meetwould be an enemy,—and at length, just as seven bells were beingstruck, he turned to me and said—
"Mr Courtenay, you have good eyes; just jump up on to the main-royalyard, will you, and take a look round. This fog packs close, but I donot believe it reaches as high as our mastheads, and I feel curious toknow whether anything has drifted within sight of us during the night."
I touched my hat, and forthwith made my way into the main rigging, gladof even a journey aloft to break the dismal monotony of the blind, grey,stirless morning, and in due time swung myself up on to the slenderyard, the sail of which had been clewed up but not furled. But, alas!the worthy second luff was mistaken for once in his life; it was everywhit as thick up there as it was down on deck, and not a thing could Isee but the fore and mizzenmasts, with their intricacies of standing andrunning rigging, their tapering yards, and their broad spaces of wet anddrooping canvas, hanging limp and looming spectrally through the ghostlymist-wreaths. I was about to hail the deck and report the failure of myexperimental journey, but was checked in the very act by feelingsomething like a faint stir in the damp, heavy air about me; anothermoment and a dim yellow smudge became visible on the port beam, which Ipresently recognised as the newly risen sun struggling to pierce withhis beams the ponderous masses of white vapour that were now slowlyworking as though stirred by some subtle agency. By imperceptibledegrees the pallid vision of the sun brightened and strengthened, andpresently I became conscious of a faint but distinct movement of the airfrom off the port quarter, to which the cloths of the sail against whichmy feet dangled responded with a gentle rustling movement.
"On deck, there!" I shouted, "it is still as thick as a hedge up here,sir, but it seems inclined to clear, and I believe we are going to havea breeze out from the north-east presently."
"So much the better," answered the second luff, ign